


If You Can Breathe

by Catchclaw



Series: Mental Mimosa [46]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Corporate, Bike Accident, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2019-05-19 16:41:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14877491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catchclaw/pseuds/Catchclaw
Summary: He doesn’t see the other guy coming, is the thing.





	If You Can Breathe

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: “you just hit me with your bike, but you’re also really hot so i forgive you.” Prompt from this [generator](http://colormayfade.tumblr.com/generator).

He doesn’t see the other guy coming, is the thing.

It’s not that he’s completely distracted by his thoughts, by the dozen would-be prototypes running around in his head, but they’re more interesting than the street he’s on, the one he walks down every day, the one with an _Au Bon Pain_ on one corner and CVS on the next and walls of doors to bland lobbies of buildings filled with lobbyists and lawyers and other flavors of ex-, craven politicos.

Plus, bikes aren’t allowed on the sidewalk in DC, so why would he be watching for one?

One second, Tony’s minding his own business on the vertical and the next, he’s facedown on concrete with the wind in his ears and his palms bloody. And somebody cursing nearby.

“Shit!” the somebody is saying. “Aw, shit, man. Are you ok?”

A hand on his back, on his shoulder. That same voice again, softer now.

“Hey, man. I’m so sorry. Do you want me to call 911?”

Tony groans. His knees feel like shit and something is definitely bruised. Like, a lot. But the last thing he needs is a chat with Officer Friendly or EMS Jones. No, what he needs is to lie down on the nice, tasteful rug Pepper picked out for his office and bemoan his bad luck. Maybe curse the universe for a bit.

“‘M fine,” he says. “Just--ugh. Everything fucking hurts.”

"God, I'm sorry," the guy says again. "I thought you saw me."

Tony opens his eyes, groggy, and raises his head and...damn. Goddamn. The day just got a thousand times better.

Because the smashy bike guy is hot. No, smashy bike guy is _gorgeous_ , even in his pointy helmet and bike shorts. Especially in his bike shorts. Which are right in Tony’s banged-up face. God.

“Can you stand?” bike guy asks. He shuffles back a little, offers Tony a hand. He’s wearing half gloves, black leather that leave his fingers free. Oh, fuck. It’s like he’s been sculpted from a variety pack of Tony Stark’s Favorite Kinks. “Hey, come on. That’s right. Nice and easy, ok?”

He has quicksilver eyes and sunglasses tucked into a tight Under Armor top and he looks, to his credit, legitimately worried. He should be, Tony thinks. He just plowed a man down in broad daylight. And thank the good lord that he did.

“Ow,” Tony says, gripping bike guy’s hand tighter. Watching the muscles in the guy’s arm flex. “Fuck. Holy hell.”

“Yeah?” A smile now and that’s so, so much worse. Jesus, this man is pretty. “Swearing’s usually a good sign.”

“Usually? You make a habit of hitting people?”

The guy blushes. Honest-to-god bites his lip. “No. Just a thing I learned in the Army: if you can swear, you can breathe; if you can breathe, you should move.”

The Army?! Fuck, Tony must’ve been a choir boy in some former life. “Ah, sage advice, Mister--?”

The hand holding his turns into a shake, firm and decisive. “Barnes,” the guy says. “Bucky Barnes. I’ve been your accidental assaulter today.”

Tony laughs which makes him bobble, which makes Barnes swoop in and take some of his weight. That doesn’t help with the bobbling. Barnes smells like springtime and sweat, like lattes and Irish Spring, and Tony Stark is fucking in love.

“My office is on the next block,” he says in a voice that feels a lot steadier than his knees. “Would you mind being my human cane and helping me get there in one piece?”

Barnes sweeps an arm around his waist. “Yeah, of course. Give me a sec to lock down my bike?”

Tony waves a hand at him, magnanimous. “Of course.”  



End file.
